A Life Worth Fighting For
by WritingScribbles
Summary: When Middle Earth is about to face evil greater than any that came before, the Valar grants their people a beacon of hope — something that was only considered to be a legend, a fairytale. When Ivanna is given second chances, can she learn the meaning of life through a journey? Can she find a life worth fighting for? 10th Walker story. (Aragorn x OC)
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Legends, folklore, and fairytales are considered stories, or made-up fantasies that are created for the sole purposes of entertaining people or soothing them in times of hardships. But what if they were real? What if, the Valar — the creators of Middle Earth — sent blessed individuals to the lands they created in times of evil? The common-folk and those who believed that they were real called them _faës_ , passing down the legends about these special creatures that were born when a star fell upon Middle Earth. Stories of these faës spoke of beautiful males and females with unlimited powers, fighting and working alongside Middle Earth's greatest warriors, kings, and diplomats in times of war, famine, and discord. They also believed that because they were blessed by the Valar, they symbolized hope and victory, and when one was born, the people would thank the deities for being on their side and watching over them. It was also said that those corrupted with darkness and evil coveted these creatures' special gifts and that they were often targeted by their enemies for their unlimited powers.

And most importantly, faës were not from Middle Earth.

* * *

It was early in the morning, and when the sunlight shone through the dingy, dark room, a limp figure on the floor moved slightly, wincing at the bothersome light. It was a female that was lying helplessly on the dirty wooden floor, and her pale blonde hair was matted against her head, hanging lifelessly over parts of her face. Her eyes opened slowly, and through her dirty hair, she could see the wreck that she called her home, and sighed as she remembered that it was a new day, and that she was alive… much to her disappointment. The girl then forced her upper body up, with her palms on the floor and trying to support herself with her arms. She tried to get up on her feet, but her body was too exhausted. The girl gave up, going back to her initial position of lying on the floor. She then rolled to lie on her back, looking at the ceiling, and laughed bitterly as she lamented her miserable situation. She had a cut lip that stung, hair stuck to her scalp with dried blood, and bruises covering her arms and body, both old and new ones colorfully marring her skin. And although she did not want to, the memories of last night flooded her mind.

 _"_ _You're drunk again," she had warily said when she saw her father coming into their small apartment, reeking of alcohol._

 _"_ _Be quiet," her father said, waving his hand, quite annoyed at his daughter._

 _"_ _You have to stop drinking again," she had continued as she carefully watched for his reactions, "The bills are due soon, and we don't have any money.."_

 _She never got to finish her sentence, as she tumbled down to the floor when her father suddenly slapped her across the face, cutting her lip in the process._

 _"_ _Shut up!" he yelled, his mind clouded with alcohol. "You always talk about that God damn money when you do nothing… Nothing!" When he saw that his daughter was trying to get up, he kicked her arms and legs. And as if that didn't relieve his anger, he continued to abuse her — marking her skin with a red hue. The girl didn't fight back, and she was smart to. She was used to it anyways. And she prayed that he would tire from the influence of the alcohol or she would lose consciousness so that she wouldn't have to feel the pain. And soon enough, when her father's blow hit her head, the world turned black, and she hoped that this time, she won't have to wake up ever again._

But her wish was not granted, and here she was again, dreading when her father would hit her again.

 _When did the beatings start?_ The girl asked herself. _Mom's death, probably._

The girl remembered how her mother used to love her, until her sudden death the year she turned 14. And she also remember how her father used to be happy too, happy that he was with the woman he loved. But fate was cruel, and took her mother away. And to relieve his grief, her father had succumbed to alcohol, not caring that he had his daughter left. The girl had dropped out of school to find work, since her father did nothing but squander all the money on buying liquor, but eventually she couldn't even do that when the beatings started. The first incident that resulted in him hitting his own daughter happened when by some clouded judgement, he began to believe that the reason why his wife died was because of his daughter. Maybe it was because she resembled her, or maybe it was because he wanted to find someone to blame. But it soon led to more beatings, and after years, the girl was used to staying quiet while she was getting abused, and tended to her wounds herself.

 _Ivanna…_ Her mother had named her Ivanna after a hard pregnancy and a hard labour, thankful that a healthy child was born to her despite the arduous process. The name meant "God's gift", and the girl's mother wanted her little daughter's life to be blessed and loved. Ivanna laughed bitterly. What a blessed life it was, to be beaten up everyday, to live her days out alone, hurt, and miserable. She looked to the clock on the wall to see the time — 7:25 am. She looked to her side and saw that her father was laying on the couch, with a half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand. Ivanna knew she had a few hours to herself before he woke up to throw a tantrum again. But as usual, life did not do any favors for her, and she heard a loud clash of glass, as the bottle that was in her father's hand slipped and fell to the floor, breaking into hundreds of sharp pieces while making a loud noise. Ivanna's father groggily woke up, surprised by the sudden sound, and instantly scowled. He cursed under his breath and looked up to meet Ivanna's eyes, who was watching carefully from her place on the floor.

"Get out and get some more," he ordered her. When she didn't move, he walked towards her and shook her with his feet. "Didn't you hear me? Go get some more!"

"I can't," Ivanna managed to say. "My body hurts too much to move."

At this her father laughed maniacally, and began to beat her again. "You're making excuses now, aren't you? You should be grateful that your living under a roof and you should do what I tell you to do, you useless thing!"

Ivanna tried to cover her head, but his foot hit her forehead, and she hit her head on the floor, and began feel dizzy. Her head was throbbing, but her father did not stop. She could feel herself losing her consciousness again, and her senses began to go blurry and faint.

 _Someone please… Please help…_

And by some miracle, at that moment, the doorbell rang loudly, as someone knocked on the front door as well to get attention. From the insistent ringings of the bells, Ivanna's father stopped his kickings and stomped towards the door and slammed it open.

"What do you want," he rudely spat out. Ivanna's sight was blurry, but she could make out a figure of a woman standing at the door.

"…next door… heard noises…" Ivanna vaguely made out what she was saying, but with her throbbing head, she couldn't do anything. "Oh God… is she hurt?"

Ivanna heard her father yelling at the woman to get out, and the woman was also shouting now, and the cacophony of mixed voices only worsened her headache. And she hoped that either that woman would save her, or that she dies now, and never have to deal with her pain anymore. But at the same time, Ivanna couldn't help but wonder… Would she ever get second chances at life? A chance to improve herself and her life?

 _Was it too much to ask for? A simple, meaningful life? One worth fighting for…?_

* * *

The hall of the Valar was filled with all fourteen of the magical beings, and the room was humming with pure energy. Each of the Valar were sitting on their thrones that outlined a circular shape around the hall, with the middle empty. They were the creators of Middle Earth, and they had overseen the realm ever since its creation. However, at the moment, all fourteen of them were greatly troubled at the fate of their beloved land.

Manwë, the king of the Valar, waved his hand from his throne in the middle of the semicircle of thrones, and a hologram of floating specks of lights were visible in the empty center of the hall, with thousands of voices suddenly heard in the air. The rest of the Valar knew who they were — souls from another world.

 _Help!_

 _I don't want to live anymore._

 _Am I dying?_

 _Why me?_

The Valar listened to the voices, hoping to find one that was deserving of the gift they were about to grant. Yet, all the humans seemed to be complaining about their lives, when in fact, they had fulfilling ones.

"If we don't do anything, Middle Earth is going to collapse under Sauron's powers," Manwë grimily said. "I do believe that Middle Earth again needs our assistance."

"The One Ring of Sauron will soon reveal itself again," Varda, the Queen of the Valar added. "Should Sauron find this ring before it is destroyed, everything we have worked for will be in vain."

"We have to decide quickly on what we should do, for I have seen how the story of Middle Earth will unfold if nothing is to be done." Vairë, the Weaver said softly. "The webs in the Halls of Mandos tell me that the Isildur's heir will never have an awakening to become the King of the race of Men, and will soon face his demise."

At this Manwë only felt despair. "But who will we send? A faë sent to Middle Earth in such a dark time should not be chosen at random."

At Manwë's questions, all the Valar looked at Varda for her guidance, who at the moment was concerned the most out of them. As the Vala of the Stars, Varda considered all the faës to be her children, and looked after them more than anyone. Normally, a faë would be chosen out of those who died before their time, and those that had souls that were pure enough to be deserving of a second chance in another world. They would be wiped clean of their memory in the world they came from, and they would awake in Middle Earth, like a new born child, when a star fell in the night. Varda kept a close watch for the past faës that were sent to Middle Earth, but they did not have to face evil as great as now. With Sauron growing in strength and Middle Earth in grave danger, Varda could not help but feel anxious about who they could possibly choose in order to save their beloved land.

 _Was it too much to ask for? A simple, meaningful life? One worth fighting for…?_

Varda looked up when she heard a new voice. Faint and lacking strength, but full of hope. Hope that was honest, pure, and persevering. Her face lit up as she wondered if she was the one.

"She is not dead yet," Manwë warned his wife when he saw her face change. "You know the rules."

"I see potential in her," Varda argued, focusing on the girl. Soon, all the other voices faded as she concentrated, and all the Valar could see the girl who just pleaded. She was lying on the floor, hurt and vulnerable, but Varda could see that her soul was not tainted, with her potential locked away before it could bloom. "She thinks she lost the will to survive, but inside, she wants to live. She wants to fight. We need that kind of someone for this task. Someone who is willing to fight for others."

"How are you sure that she will be willing to save a world that she doesn't know?" Manwë asked, still skeptical.

"I have seen it," a new voice spoke from the side. Manwë turned his head around to see Irmo, the Vala of dreams, desires, and visions. "She is the one, I'm sure of it."

"What have you seen in the future?" Varda asked. "How will she help those in need of her assistance?"

"I cannot see everything," Irmo began. "But the girl is going to change the fate of the heir of Isildur. She is going to alter his destiny."

"But what of her memories? Others before her have been wiped clean of their previous life, yet this girl is not yet dead," one of the other Valar argued.

"It is true that her time in her own world is not over," Vairë carefully began. "But she pleaded for a second chance and we need her help as well."

"What are you suggesting?" Manwë asked her.

"I am offering an option, but it is something that has never happened before," Vairë said. "Normally, after their tasks were completed, the faës have continued to live in Middle Earth, as their time in the other world was over. But for this girl, I am suggesting that we offer her a deal. Should she succeed in her task, she would go back to her world, granted a second chance, to finish out her life."

"Are you saying that we should offer her a deal?" Another Vala asked and Vairë nodded her head.

Manwë, also nodding slowly at Vairë's idea, made up his mind. "So be it then. She will be granted our blessings to go to Middle Earth." With that, all the Valar smiled in relief, and Manwë waved his hand to make the hologram in the middle to disappear. "And if she is finished with assisting Middle Earth, she will be given a choice to go back to her world."

* * *

 **Hello!** **I'm finally back!**

 **For those of you that read the previous version, thank you for staying with me for this version as well.**

 **I hope this one is better, and I hope to provide more details than the last one.**

 **I changed some elements so that I can fit into the storyline that I originally planned, and I'll try my best to make it good.**

 **Thanks for reading - both old and new readers - and feedback is always welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Valar

Her head was throbbing. Her vision was blurry when she cracked open her eyes, and she could only hear muffled sounds. Grunting, Ivanna closed her eyes again and rolled away from her place on the floor so that she could lie on her side, allowing herself to breathe more freely. How long was she unconscious for? As she opened her eyes again, her sight became clearer and she could hear things better now. Ivanna lifted herself to a sitting position, while still leaning onto her arm on the floor. She was surprised that she had the energy to get up, and felt much better than she had earlier in the morning. It was only then that she heard the loud noise of the ambulance just outside her house. Soon, she heard the front door burst open.

"She's still in there!" it was that woman she saw earlier. Did she call the ambulance? What happened to her father? Ivanna turned her head and saw paramedics in uniforms rushing into the house with a stretcher ready.

 _Finally_ , Ivanna thought. _I'm finally going to be saved._

Ivanna weakly smiled as the paramedics came towards her direction, but was left confused when they rushed past her, shouting at something behind her. She stared while the paramedics hurriedly lifted someone other than herself on the stretcher and shouted at each other to quickly move out of the house. She couldn't see the person they were taking care of, because there were so many people around, but she could see that it was a girl, and her body was limp as the paramedics tended to her.

 _What's going on? I'm the one who needs help…. Who are they taking?_

The paramedics lifted the girl onto the stretcher and one of the men instructed the rest of the group what to do next. Ivanna tried to get their attention by weakly waving her arm from her sitting position, but they were too preoccupied. As the men began to push the stretcher out of the house Ivanna stretched her neck to see who was the girl that was taking away her opportunity for a medical attention. And what she saw was unbelievable.

It was _her_.

It was her that was lying limp on the stretchers as the paramedics moved past her. It was her with an arm dangling lifelessly, with her body covered in bruises. Ivanna was so shocked to the point she couldn't even let out a scream, as she sat there with her hands to her mouth, mortified at what she was seeing. She looked down at herself, but she looked just the same as the girl lying on the stretcher, and she felt her head spin.

 _What is going on? Am I dead?_

As tears welled up in her eyes, she saw the paramedics continue to rush past her, eventually exiting the house and to the ambulance. Without thinking, and mustering all the energy she had left, Ivanna fumbled to rise up on her feet. She winced at the pain and the sore she felt as she moved quickly, but she couldn't dwell on them. Not while she was seeing her own body being carried away. Ivanna ran out the door of her house, not even caring that she was limping, and frantically searched for her body. She saw the paramedics slowly lifting her to the ambulance through the back door, and continued to run towards it. Wincing at the pain she was feeling — although she didn't understand how she could in her state — Ivanna sped up to slip inside the ambulance just in time before the door was closed. She could see and hear the paramedics trying to help her — well, the body that was lying in front of them — but Ivanna didn't pay attention, as she was too busy staring at herself. How could this happen? She sat down on one of the seats built in the ambulance, as she tried to figure out what was going on.

Was she dead? Was she a ghost? Is she going to be stuck in this form?

Her mind was too numb. She heard people say something but she paid no attention. She simply couldn't. Her mind was too mixed up at the moment.

Just what the hell was going on?

* * *

It didn't take long for the ambulance to reach a nearby hospital, and Ivanna was quick to follow the doctors who received her body to take over from the paramedics. However, once the stretcher carrying her body entered the hospital, Ivanna's limping state was too slow to catch up. And with a crowd of people and cacophony of noises, she soon lost where her body was taken to. For hours, Ivanna ran around the hospital trying to find herself again, but only ended up lost within the vast hallways of the building. She tried to ask questions to the people around her, but they could not hear her. Not only that, they seemed to walk straight through her, as if she was some invisible spirit.

 _Now what am I supposed to do?_ Ivanna thought. She was lost. Both literally and figuratively. Exhausted and so confused, Ivanna slid her back down a wall and sat on the ground with a sigh. She had so many questions but no one could help her.

Where was her father? What happened to him? Where was her own body? Was she dead?

She hopelessly sat there and blankly stared into the air, watching as people walked by, until the air suddenly felt cold. There was a cold gush of wind that made her arms be dotted with goosebumps, and Ivanna hastily looked around. She yelped when a thick fog was slowly swirling around her, and jumped to her feet. The thick, white fog was spreading, and it was coming from the end of the hallway she was in, yet no one else seemed to notice what was going on.

 _Is this only visible to me?_ She thought. In order to find out what was happening, Ivanna followed the thick fog, towards the direction it was coming from. She quickly walked down the hallway and made a left turn when she approached a corner, and couldn't believe her eyes and gaped at what she saw.

The same kind of fog that was at her feet was in the air, swirling and hovering to form an opening, like a sort of a portal in the middle of the hallway. When Ivanna looked through the mysterious opening, she could see a bright light, not the continued hallway that should be behind it. The light within was an ethereal glow, and Ivanna instinctively knew that it was something supernatural: something meant for her, since she was going through all these crazy experiences. Ivanna cautiously took slow steps to approach the foggy portal, and tentatively stretched her hand into the space that was emitting light. She felt the same coldness she felt moments ago though a breeze.

 _Is this where I'm supposed to go?_ Ivanna thought. She couldn't help but think that this was for _her_ , and that she was meant to go through this opening. Having nothing to lose, Ivanna took a deep breath, and walked straight into the foggy portal.

Her surroundings changed the moment she stepped through the opening. The consistent sound of the the people in the hospital faded in a blink of an eye. Instead of the busy hospital, she was walking through an emptiness — everything white and bright around her, with the same fog from before staying below her knees. It was like as if she was walking through a dream, everything around her silent and hazy. Ivanna looked back to see where she came from, but the path she came through was nowhere to be seen. It was just the bright light all around her, and Ivanna wondered through this serene environment. She didn't know how long she spent walking around, until she came to a point where the light slightly dimmed, and the fog was nearly gone. And then there was a door, a clean, white door that seemed to be calling out for her. On each side of the door, there were large marble pillars, and meticulous carvings decorated the top parts. It truly was a grand, magnificent door, and Ivanna couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated.

 _Is this some kind of afterlife?_ Ivanna thought. Gulping, and with a determined mind, Ivanna slowly raised her hand and held the handle of the door.

And with a firm push, she opened the door, the door to her future.

* * *

The Valar were all talking amongst themselves as they were waiting for the girl that would give them the chance to save Middle Earth. And when the door to their hall opened, the room became silent, as all fourteen of them stared at the opening.

"She's here," Manwë smiled.

A petite girl peeked through the door, and gasped when she saw her surroundings. Ivanna gaped at the fourteen large beings, and frantically looked around the room.

"Welcome, Ivanna," Varda warmly smiled at the frightened girl, "Please, don't be afraid."

"Who… Who are you?" Ivanna managed to yelp. "How do you know me? Where am I?"

Manwë gestured to all of the Valar and put his hand on his chest as if to indicate himself, and said, "We are the Valar. I am Manwë, the king of the Valar, and the one beside me is Varda, my queen. We all are the creators of a world different from the one you came from."

 _Yup, definitely dead,_ Ivanna grimly thought. _I guess this is heaven, then?_

"No, my child," Varda said, as if she read her mind, "You are not dead yet, but you were called here because you were chosen to become a beacon of hope for our beloved world we call Middle Earth."

"Traditionally," Manwë intervened when he saw Ivanna's confused face, "We would call upon those who have faced their end in the other world for help. And yes, you are still alive in your world."

He gestured to the middle of the hall, and a swirl of fog created images in the air. Ivanna stepped closer to make out what the Vala was trying to show her, and gasped. It was her lying down on a hospital bed. The doctors were surrounding her form, eyes closed as if she was sleeping.

 _"She is in a coma,"_ she could hear one of the doctors say. _"I'm surprised she lasted this long under such abuse from her father. I heard that he was taken by the police when she was found."_

 _"We don't know how long it will take for her to wake up,"_ another one stated grimly. _"And that's not the only problem. She…"_

Ivanna couldn't' hear the rest as Manwë waved his hand again and the images disappeared.

"Because this is an unprecedented circumstance, we have decided to make you an offer," Manwë said. "We will send you back to your world, should you decide to help Middle Earth in defeating a great evil and succeed to restore peace. And I will not lie, the journey will be hard and long."

"What if I refuse?" Ivanna said. "What if I don't want to save a world and go through a dangerous path?"

Varda sighed. "Then there is no other choice but to send you back to where you came from. However, there will be no guarantee that you will awake in the other world. Like you have seen yourself, you are unconscious."

At this, Ivanna was downhearted. What if she never manages to wake up in her world?

"If you choose to help us," Manwë said. "And if you succeed, we will ensure that you return to your world, and you will wake. We will even let you stay in Middle Earth if you wish."

Ivanna was torn between her options. Her life awaited back at home. Her father was out of her life, and she could start anew. There were so many things she wanted to do — school, friends, job, and just simply living her life. But there was the possibility of not waking up. The chance of being stuck in a coma forever. If she wanted assurance in her new life back home, she had to help this world called Middle Earth. But it sounded dangerous, scary, and evil.

On the other hand, the Valar were anxious to hear her answer. They were waiting for her to say that she will help, but could not help but feel the fear of her rejecting their offer.

"I..I'll do it," Ivanna finally said. The Valar felt a spark of hope at her answer. "I'll help Middle Earth. But you have to promise that I can go back to my world when I'm done."

"Of course," Manwë beamed. "We promise that we will uphold our end of the offer."

"Now what do I do?" Ivanna looked around, anxious to get her task — whatever it was — over with. The faster she finished her business, the faster she could return home. "How do I get there?"

Varda raised herself from her throne and slowly stepped towards the human girl, and shrank to match Ivanna's height by the time she reached her. She closed her eyes and held up her hands, and small specks of light began to float around the palm of her hands, and moved in the air towards Ivanna.

"One of the stars in the cold northern sky will fall tonight," Varda opened her eyes and announced to all of the Valar. "From the ice of the fallen star, she will be born as a faë. And I will look after her throughout her journey."

As soon as Varda finished speaking, Ivanna felt her body glow, as the specks of light swirled quickly around her, soon enveloping her whole being. As she stared down at herself in awe, Ivanna felt the lights growing brighter and brighter, until she had to squint from the blinding light.

"I have foreseen it. She will alter what has been destined. She will awaken the potential in the Isildur's heir. The fate of Middle Earth is in her hands," she heard a voice say.

 _Who's Isildur's heir? Will I meet this person?_ Ivanna thought. She wanted to ask who it was, but the lights continued to glow, and everything seemed to be in blur. Ivanna could not see anything due to the extreme brightness. Then suddenly, she felt a gush of cold wind swirling against her body, and Ivanna began to hear a cracking sound, similar to that of an ice falling apart. Before Ivanna could register what was happening to her, she lost her sense in balance, motion, and time.

And everything went black.

* * *

 **Hi, I'm back!**

 **I know this chapter didn't really have much action, but I thought it was needed to explain how she got to Middle Earth rather than just dropping her there. And I promise Aragorn will appear in the next chapter.**

 **Currently I have two endings for this story: one sad and one happy... I'll probably decide when I get there.**

 **As always, thank you for reading, and feedback is always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3: Aragorn

Aragorn sat in the corner of the inn's room, as he watched over the four hobbits as they lied together on the bed. He had chosen an inn across from the Prancing Pony, realizing that the halfling with the one ring could potentially draw more attention. He also had a feeling that Sauron's forces would soon come after them, having sensed the one ring's power when Frodo put the ring on a while ago at the Prancing Pony. The said halfling was the only one awake besides Aragorn himself, and the three others were sleeping, which was fine with him, as long as they were rested enough for the next day's travels. It would be a quite a journey until they reached Rivendell, the House of Lord Elrond.

Sighing, Aragorn looked out the window and glanced up at the night sky. The stars were his long time companions over the years of traveling as a ranger, and he enjoyed them, as they soothed him. Their light was always there, to guide him through lonely nights. He continued to observe the night sky, until he noticed one particular star. It was brighter than all the others, rivaling the light of the moon itself. Not only that, this star seemed to flicker, like a candle in a rough wind.

 _A falling star, perhaps._

While he was waiting in the Prancing Pony, he had heard the men talking excitedly about a glowing star, but dismissed it, thinking it was mindless gossip. However, now he realized they weren't being foolish. The men had spoken fervently about it being an omen of bad things to come. Others argued that the gods were in their favor. And Aragorn, as he looked at the star, wondered how such a beautiful thing could be a harbinger for evil. He hoped that in dark times like these, it symbolized something pure and hopeful. And maybe it was because of its brilliance, or maybe it was because he had no other thing to do at the moment, but Aragorn was drawn to this single star. He couldn't help but gaze upon it continuously. When he realized he was admiring the star for far too long, he was surprised at how long he has been not focusing on the task at hand: keeping a watch over the haflings.

 _Why? Why was he so mesmerized?_

His thoughts were soon interrupted when there were several screeches from a distance, which awoke the hobbits immediately. The terrible noises were from the Nazgûls, he was sure. This meant that the wretched creatures were close on their trails.

"What are they?" Frodo asked him quietly.

"They were once Men- Great Kings of Men," Aragorn answered. "Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

The hobbits seemed to be afraid, and Aragorn continued his explanation. "They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

He looked back once more at the brilliant star, and turned back to the hobbits. "Go to sleep. We leave as soon as there is light."

* * *

"These are for you. Keep them close," Aragorn dryly said as he tossed knives to each of the hobbits. "I'm going to have a look around. Stay here."

The hobbits seemed frightened at the idea of being left alone without a guide to protect them, but let him walk away from them, too afraid to speak up to the ranger. They were currently at what was once a watchtower of Amon Sûl, and few days has passed since the night at the inn. The hobbits still weren't used to sleeping outdoors, Aragorn kept in mind. But they didn't have much choice, since they needed to reach the House of Elrond as soon as possible. He truly hoped that nothing serious would happen while he was gone. It was his job to protect them, and quite frankly, he did not like failing his duties.

He walked around the watch tower, and made sure nothing suspicious was nearby. Right now, he couldn't see any Nazgûls or any other servants of the evil. He reached far enough from the watch tower, and was satisfied that the area was clear and safe, at least for now. He realized that the sun had long gone away, replaced by the moon. It was sunset when he left the hobbits, and he knew that he should head back to them. He turned his head towards the sky, however, remembering the star from few nights ago. He had forgotten about it while traveling with the hobbits, fully occupied with keeping them alive and keeping watch.

The unusually bright star was still there, except that tonight, it was flickering more vigorously than before. Aragorn furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes in attempt to look at it more clearly, and noticed its blinking. It was a if something was shaking the star and its light.

Then, he noticed something. The star was seemingly larger than before. And it was slowly but surely growing continuously. Aragorn shockingly observed the star as it grew larger, not because it was increasing in size, but because it was coming towards the earth, towards him.

In caution and fear, Aragorn backed away from where he was, and carefully kept his eyes on the falling star. As it came closer and closer, Aragorn could see that the star was a ball of light, flying through the air to the earth. And a mere moment later, it crashed only a few meters away from him, with a loud thump that gave a chill through his spine. There was a fog coming from where the star had fallen, but he couldn't see because of the tall grass the obscured his sight.

With his hand on the sword at his hip, Aragorn took quiet steps and approached the place where the star made contact. It wasn't everyday that people encountered a falling star, right in front of them. The white fog became thicker and the air turned cold as he became closer to its source, and he stopped alertly when he stepped on something that made a loud crack.

 _Glass?_ He inquired himself as he looked down at his feet. _No… 'Tis ice! What sorcery is this?_

He had stepped on a piece of ice, something that should not be around at this time of the year. As he looked ahead, he noticed there were more pieces of ice sprawled and spread on the ground, glistening under the moonlight like crystals.

With even more caution now, Aragorn was prepared to pull out his sword anytime. He swiftly approached the source of the fog, and saw a —

 _A woman?_

Aragorn stood there dumbfounded, as the fog started to clear up and disappear.

 _A_ ** _woman_** _._

It was indeed a woman. A young and fair one. She was lying on her side with her head gently atop one of her arms, as the other arm was folded near her heart. She was too fair that Aragorn doubted that anything as delicate as her would be evil. She was beautiful, albeit in a strange way. Her skin was pale. So pale, in fact, if not for her chest rising and falling from breathing, one could easily mistaken her as being dead. Her long hair was pitch black, falling in soft tresses to the middle of her back. She was barefoot, Aragorn noticed, and the clothes she was wearing, was a simple, white gossamer dress that split at her shoulders, leaving her arms bare. Aragorn knew she was not from anywhere around here. She was altogether an image of someone ethereal: beautiful — exotic, even — yet foreign. It was clear she was no mere human. All around her, shards of ice were spread, clear and sharp like crystals. And there was a faint, silvery glow that surrounded the woman's body, like a shield from the outside world.

 _The woman must have some relation to the star_ , Aragorn decided. _But how?_

Aragorn kneeled to get a closer look at the woman. She did not stir as Aragorn pushed himself closer to her, and the ranger in curiosity and with hesitance, raised his hand. Aragorn reached out to the woman, and felt the glow around her hum with energy. Aragorn halted his hand in surprise, and saw the light surrounding the mysterious woman dissolve into thin air. When his fingertips carefully touched her cheek, Aragorn felt a new sensation: a pleasant warmth, followed by a coolness that coursed through his body within seconds.

It was only then the woman's eyes flickered, as if responding to Aragorn's touch. Aragorn pulled his hand back, and slightly moved away, allowing room for the woman to move. The woman seemed to have regained her consciousness. Her eyes continued to flicker as she tried to adjust a new environment. Her ebony hair fell from her shoulders and covered her face when she tried to balance herself of her arms and raised her upper body. She was trying to get up, and when Aragorn saw that the woman was shaking slightly, he reached out with his both hands to steady her. When the woman felt two strong arms hold her by her upper arms, she glanced up, now realizing that she wasn't alone. Her hair moved away from her face when she looked up, and when she finally met his eyes, Aragorn couldn't help but stare in awe, struck with surprise. Her golden eyes, round and filled with bewilderment, gave away what she was. She was a blessed one, a chosen one of the Valar.

"A faë," Aragorn whispered.

* * *

It was very warm. Her body felt like she was under the sun in a bright summer day, when the sunlight would surround her whole being in a pleasant sensation. Then it was cold. A cold shock went through her body, and she could now hear the quiet sound of the crickets and feel the soft brushes of the grass around her. Her eyes were closed, but she knew that she was lying on her side, and that she was outdoors. She could feel the cool breeze grazing on her skin, and felt the tall grass that she was lying atop on. Ivanna's eyes flickered open, and tried to get up. She placed the palms of her hands on the ground, and tried to lift herself up. She realized that it was dark, now that her vision was clearing up. However, she still felt faint and weak when she tried to get herself lifted from the ground. It was only then that she felt two strong arms hold her by her upper arms. When she realized that she wasn't alone, her heart started to race.

 _What if this person is trying to hurt me?_

Whoever it was, it was definitely a man. The hands were too large and the grip on her arms were too firm to be a woman's. Slowly, Ivanna turned her head up to see who was in front of her. The stray pieces of hair that initially blocked her view soon moved away as she looked up, and her eyes met grey ones.

Like she expected, it was a man. His grey eyes were fixated on hers, and Ivanna didn't know what to do. What could she do, in a strange place with a person she has never met? The man looked considerably older than her, but not too old. His face was worn out, and Ivanna could only guess that he was tired right now. What she found surprising was that he was wearing something out of the Middle Ages. Plus, he had a long, deathly looking sword at his hip. Looking down at herself, Ivanna was even more shocked at what she was wearing: a white dress she was sure that she never owned before. When Ivanna looked back at his face, she had to admit — albeit begrudgingly — that this man was very handsome.

"A faë," the man whispered. His voice was deep, and was filled with pure admiration.

His continued staring was making Ivanna uncomfortable. He was marveling at her like she was an alien, and she squirmed and tried to wiggle her shoulders in an attempt to get away from the man. Maybe it was because of years of her father's abuse that made her uncomfortable under a man's presence. She was afraid what the man was going to do to her, in a place — a world, actually — that was entirely different from her own.

The man must have taken hint to her discomfort, since he backed away and raised both of his hands in front of him, like a gesture of surrender and that he meant no harm.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, my lady," he said. "Are you all right?"

Ivanna nodded at this, internally hoping that the man truly did not mean any harm.

"Do you have a name, my lady?" he asked.

"Iv… Ivanna," she answered. "Who… Who are you?"

"You can call me Strider," the man replied after a pause.

Ivanna immediately noticed his hesitance. If there's one more thing she had developed from living with her father, it was being able to read people easily. She had to learn how to do this; she had learned read her father's moods and lay low to survive. "That's not your real name, is it?"

The man raised his eyebrow, seemingly impressed and taken back that the woman in front of him could see through his alias so easily.

"Call me Strider," the man said again, this time more firmly than before.

It was then that a horrible screech could be heard. The man called Strider immediately rose to hid feet and frantically looked around, while placing his hands on his sword, ready to attack at any moment. Ivanna winced at the high-pitched noise, and covered her ears as they continued for several times.

"What _is_ that?" Ivanna half-yelled.

"They are the Nazgûl," Strider breathed out. "Come, we must go."

"To where?" Ivanna asked in disbelief. Was this man seriously asking her to follow him to nowhere when there were crazy things waiting for them?

"I had others in my company when I came here. They are in grave danger right now. We must hurry," Strider seemed to be in a hurry and seemed frustrated. He started to walk away from Ivanna, expecting to have the young woman follow him, but halted when he realized the faë didn't move an inch. Strider, sighing, walked back to where he started from and knelt next to Ivanna and put his hand on her shoulder.

"We must go," he said.

"How can I trust you?" Ivanna asked with suspicion. "Do you expect me to follow a stranger that I have just met?

"I have no interest in leaving a young woman, a faë especially, in the middle of nowhere, vulnerable to evil," Strider spoke in a low voice. He was running out of patience. "I have others to protect. And we cannot waste time here."

 _A faë? What is that?_ Ivanna thought. _Am I a new species now?_

"How can I trust someone who won't even tell me his real name?" Ivanna retorted.

Strider sighed, and got up to his feet. Ivanna observed his distress as they could hear the faint shrills of the Nazgûl in the distance. She knew he was running out of time. But Ivanna also knew she if she were to save this world, she had to be as careful as she can. She just couldn't trust everyone she met on her way.

The man seemed to have made up his mind after an agonizing silence.

"My name is Aragorn," the man said, holding out his hand to Ivanna. "Will you trust me now?"

Ivanna looked into the man's eyes and found no lies. She only saw desperation. Now knowing that this man was being truthful, Ivanna slowly raised her own hand, and grasped his large hand with her small one. His hand was calloused and rough, and large enough to envelop hers.

What Ivanna and the man called Aragorn didn't know was that at that very moment, their thread of fate was growing out of themselves, and were reaching out to one another, as their hands were connected. They didn't realize that from the very beginning, their fates were entwined, connecting and linking themselves, never to be unbound again.

* * *

 **Long time no see!**

 **So that's how Aragorn and my OC met...**

 **I chose the part in the movie where Aragorn goes to check the area out and returns at night.**

 **And come on, I can't be the only one that wondered why the hell did he take so long to come back.**

 **Anyways, thanks for being patient and reading :)**

 **'Till the next time, then 3**


	4. Chapter 4: Journey to Rivendell

The man pulled Ivanna up and she stood up for the first time she arrived in Middle Earth. The man called Aragorn looked at her face with curiosity written across his face. Timidly, Ivanna pulled her hand away from his firm grasp.

"Where are we headed to, then?" she asked, looking around the vast field of grass.

Aragorn frowned as there was another screeching of the Nazgûl could be heard. "Follow me," he hurriedly said.

Ivanna lifted the hem of her dress and ran to keep up with the long-legged man. Looking at his huge steps, it was no wonder why he called himself 'Strider.' Ivanna was suffering due to her lack of shoes, but eventually became used to the grass fields under her feet. They had been running like that for a few minutes, with Ivanna tip-toeing carefully to not cut her feet on a random piece of rock, until Aragorn halted abruptly. She almost bumped into his back, not seeing that he had stopped. When Ivanna raised her head, Aragorn was looking at a tall structure, like a tower of some sort, with crudely shaped rocks and pillars. When she followed Aragorn's line of sight, she could see a small flame in the distance.

"That's where we have to go," Aragorn breathed out. "Hurry."

With that, the man ran to reach the top of the tower, and Ivanna, groaning at another need to run, tiredly grabbed her dress and began to follow.

 _The Valar should've told me that this world is a little bit slow on technology and that there was going to be a marathon!_ Ivanna huffed inside her head.

When the two had climbed to where they had seen the fire, they could not find anyone. Ivanna looked around and saw signs of a fire, as well as food and bowls lying around. Someone had attempted to put the fire out, but it seems like a small amount survived.

 _They didn't die here, at least,_ Ivanna thought. _They must have run away from this place, whoever they are_.

"Who are we looking for?" Ivanna asked. She turned around and saw Aragorn walking back with a long wooden stick in his hand. She watched as he made a torch by putting the wood into the fire and pulling it out again.

"Four hobbits," Aragorn said. Looking at Ivanna furrowing her eyebrows at the word 'hobbit,' Aragorn explained, "They are small, and they are called haflings. They have larger feet than we do and have the height of children."

 _New species. Great, what are we going to have next? Goblins?_

Both their heads turned upward when screeches of the Nazgûl could be heard again, but this time much closer.

"They must be at the top of this tower," Ivanna realized. Nodding, Aragorn gestured towards her to follow him again, and quietly but quickly climbed up the stone steps that led to the roof of the tower, surrounded by pillars. When they were almost at the top, Aragorn put his finger to his lips to make sure Ivanna was quiet.

"Stay hidden behind one of the pillars," Aragorn warned. "They won't let you live if you are seen."

Ivanna nodded hastily and when both of them finally reached the roof, Ivanna had to clamp her mouth with both hands to silence herself from screaming. What Aragorn had called the Nazgûl were more than just creepy creatures. They were ominous and simple terrifying to even look at. They were taller than an average man, and they all had black robes with pointed hoods, and held deadly looking swords. They looked as if they jumped out of Middle Ages drawings of grim reapers. Gathering her senses, Ivanna backed away to one of the pillars and saw that in the middle of the tower's roof, the Nazgûl were surrounding one spot. It was at this point when Aragorn pulled out his sword and ran towards the horrid creatures and began fighting them. Ivanna didn't even know she was clutching both of her hands at her heart in anticipation as she watched. When she looked away from Aragorn's duel with the Nazgûl, she could see that a small child was injured on the floor — it had to be one of the hobbits — and there were three more around him. As the little hobbit screamed in agony, Ivanna felt her heart drop.

Then, Ivanna felt a chill down her spine. It was as if winter had suddenly come, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Ivanna turned her head around, and saw that one of the Nazgûl was standing behind her, with a knife looking deathly in its hand. When the Nazgûl met her eyes, it faltered it motions a little bit and let out a small screech, but regained its composure and began to slowly charge towards her. In panic, Ivanna began to stumble backwards to where Aragorn was fighting, and began to run onto the roof of the tower.

"Is that a _woman_?" Ivanna heard one of the hobbits say in distance. "It's a _lady_!"

"Here miss! Over here!" another one yelled.

Ivanna, with every strength she had, ran towards the hobbits and fell next to them, as they sighed when she reached them safely. When Aragorn saw the faë, he looked confused at first, but nodded in understanding when he found the Nazgûl coming towards her, with its blade drawn. Aragorn quickly intercepted and began to fight it. The hobbits and Ivanna sighed in relief, but one of the hobbits soon realized the danger wasn't over.

"Miss, we've got another one," one of them said nervously, tapping on Ivanna's shoulders. With dread, Ivanna looked to the side and saw another Nazgûl coming towards them. The four hobbits and the faë slowly backed away from their position on the floor as the Nazgûl came closer and closer. Aragorn was too busy to help them; he was fighting more than three at once. When the Nazgûl was only a step away, it raised its blade to strike one of them. All of the hobbits and Ivanna screamed as they covered their faces, and Ivanna raised her arm to shield herself, dreading about her early death.

But the blow never came.

When they felt nothing, the hobbits and Ivanna opened their eyes and there jaws dropped at what they saw.

It was a wall of _ice_.

Ivanna's palms were facing the Nazgûl and in front of her hands, a clear, but strong shield had taken place. The ice shield was high, and the side that the Nazgûl was facing had sharp points, like icicles that looked threatening and dangerous. Ivanna's palms could feel the coolness of the ice, and her whole body felt a rush of energy. The Nazgûl, blocked by the thick wall of ice, screeched in frustration. The loud noise caught Aragorn's attention, who was finished with the rest of them at this point. He turned around to face the final Nazgûl and his eyes widened at the sight of Ivanna and the hobbits behind a clear wall. Shock and confusion were plain on his face.

When Ivanna met Aragorn's eyes, she mouthed 'help' and gestured her head towards the horrid thing, and Aragorn, with a deep breath, threw his torch and set the Nazgûl on fire. The black creature screeched again and as it burned, it fell to the side of the tower. And there was silence.

They were finally gone.

When Ivanna retracted her hand from the air, the wall began to crack and fell to the ground into a million pieces that shone under the moonlight. Everyone gaped as the ice wall that looked deadly came apart as soon as the young woman removed her hands from the air.

"I… I don't… understand…" Ivanna mumbled as she looked at her own hands. It seemed normal, but she cold not deny that it wasn't her that magically created a wall of ice and disintegrated it.

"Are you a witch?" one of the hobbits excitedly asked. "Are you like Gandalf?"

"Shut up Pippin," another chastised him, hitting the one he called Pippin on the head. "Look at her eyes, they are golden! Don't you remember the stories? From our neighbors?"

"I remember my dear cousin falling asleep every time, my dear Sam," another hobbit retorted.

"Wait," Ivanna halted everyone. "What do you mean, my eyes are golden?"

"They are really golden, miss. Like amber," Pippin chirped. He then faced Ivanna, "But seriously, what _are_ you miss? Can you do more of the ice thing? Where did you come from? How do you know Strider?"

"She is a faë," Aragorn said as he approached her, saving her from the incessant questioning of the young hobbit. Ivanna met his eyes in gratefulness, and Aragorn nodded as if he understood. "Blessed one of the Valar. The golden eyes are one of the unique traits they share. I've heard countless stories, but I've never seen the gifts of the Valar with my own eyes"

He then turned to the hobbit that was injured. "We'll talk about this later, but first we need to see how badly this one's hurt."

"You have to help Frodo, Strider," one of the hobbits pleaded. He was the one called Sam, Ivanna remembered. The one called Frodo was wincing in pain, and his eyes were cloudy, as if he was slowly losing consciousness.

Ivanna watched as Aragorn picked up a blade.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," he solemnly said as the blade vanished into thin air. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine."

 _Elvish? As in… elves? Pointy ears?_ Ivanna thought, her eyes round and wide.

The remaining hobbits and Ivanna watched as Aragorn carried Frodo and headed down to the steps that would lead them back to the ground, away from this fearful place.

"Let's go," Aragorn firmly said. "It's still a long way until Rivendell."

* * *

When they left the tower, the group led by Aragorn was now traveling through the forest. Ivanna, still barefoot, cursed inside her head as she desperately tried to avoid cutting herself on her feet as she walked. Her dress was annoying too, with the long fabric getting caught on small branches and Ivanna had to yank the dress whenever it was stuck somewhere.

When Ivanna tried taking another step, she realized her dress was stuck again. Sighing, Ivanna turned to yank her dress, but felt a tug on her arm. She looked down and saw Pippin.

"Miss?" he asked. "I think being angry at the fabric won't work."

Ivanna watched as the little hobbit plucked the end of the dress from a branch of a low tree, and handed it to her.

"Thank you," Ivanna smiled softly.

"I'm Peregrin Took, miss," Pippin said. "But you can call me Pippin."

"You can call me Ivanna," the young woman replied. She then looked around and saw that the rest of the group were far ahead of them. "We better hurry up. I don't think they'll wait for us."

The two then rushed to catch up with the rest of the group.

"This," Pippin said pointing to the hobbit Ivanna didn't know the name of, "is my cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck, miss. But you can call him Merry. Merry, this is Miss Ivanna. Just thought we should all get to know each other, since we are all stuck in the wilderness with Strider."

"Nice to meet you miss," Merry slightly bowed his head as he continued to walk.

"The one over there is Samwise Gamgee, or Sam, if you'd like," Pippin continued to talk. "And the one who's injured is our friend, Frodo."

 _Pippin, Merry, Sam, and Frodo…_ Got this, Ivanna thought.

"Hey Sam!" Pippin yelled to get Sam's attention. But the hobbit didn't look back, as he was too focused on Frodo, who was being carried by Aragorn. He trailed the tall man like a lost puppy and worriedly looked at Frodo constantly.

"Sorry miss," Merry apologized. "Sam over there is most worried about Mr. Frodo. He promised someone that he would look out for him."

"That's alright," Ivanna said sincerely smiling. "It's nice that Frodo has friends that care for him so much."

Ivanna winced when she heard throaty gasps from Frodo. He was wheezing and barely able to breathe in his condition.

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" Ivanna asked, rushing a little bit to catch up to Aragorn.

"I told you, it is beyond my skills." Aragorn replied. "Hopefully we won't be too late for the elves to heal him."

"But is there no way to make him feel better at least?" Ivanna asked. "Any medicine or herbal remedies, or …"

Ivanna halted when Aragorn stopped abruptly. He turned around and stared at Ivanna as if something hit him.

"Athelas… How could I forget?" he whispered.

"What's going on Strider?" Sam asked frantically when he saw Aragorn stop. "Is something wrong?"

Pippin asked, "Is he going to die?"

"He's fading," Aragorn said. "He's passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a wraith like them."

In a far distance, there were screeches of the Nazgûl again, and Merry winced. "They're close," he said.

"Sam, do you know Athelas plant?" Aragorn asked, putting Frodo down on the ground.

"Athelas?" Sam asked back.

"Kingsfoil," Aragorn explained.

"Kingsfoil?" Sam thought for a moment. "That's a weed, though."

"It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!" Aragorn urged the little hobbit. Sam followed Aragorn into the forest, and they both began frantically searching for a plant near the ground.

Aragorn, before disappearing into the darkness of the forest, turned to Ivanna and pointed at the remaining hobbits. "Make sure they don't go anywhere. I'm trusting you."

 _Why do I suddenly feel like that kid who gets put in charge by the teacher for no reason?_ Ivanna raised her eyebrow.

"Let's trust him guys," Ivanna said, looking down and putting her hand on each of Merry and Pippin's shoulders. "He's led us this far. Let's hope for the best."

 _He better get back quickly,_ she thought.

* * *

When Aragorn came back after some painfully long minutes, he was with another person. It was a woman with dark hair and… _pointy ears_.

"She's an elf," Sam breathed next to Ivanna.

"Frodo!" the elf was saying. "He's fading!"

Aragorn placed a plant — kingsfoil, Ivanna assumed — onto Frodo's wound, and cold hear Frodo's desperate gasp.

"He's not going to last," the female elf said. "We must get him to my father. I've been looking for you for two days."

Aragorn proceeded to lift Frodo from the ground and carried him towards the woman's horse.

"Where are you taking him?" Merry shouted out. Ivanna held the hobbit back; she had a feeling the elf knew what she was doing.

"There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know," the woman was saying.

Aragorn set Frodo on top of the horse and began to speak to the elf. But Ivanna couldn't understand.

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked, also confused.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the woman mounted her horse behind Frodo and began to gallop away, with Aragorn worriedly looking at where she had left.

"What are you doing?! Those wraiths are still out there!" Sam shouted at Aragorn, worried more than anyone else at the moment. "Who is she anyway? How can you just let her take Mr. Frodo, Strider?"

"She is Arwen Undómiel, Master Samwise," Aragorn replied. "The daughter of Lord Elrond. She can be trusted, I assure you. She is someone I consider as my sister."

 _That is one drop-dead gorgeous sister you've got there_ , Ivanna thought. She wasn't being sarcastic at all. The elf was so beautiful that Ivanna wondered if all elves were inherently flawless.

Ivanna saw Samwise wanting to protest but closed his mouth, knowing that the elf lady was their best bet on saving Frodo.

"Come one little ones," Ivanna called for the hobbits. "Let's hurry to this Rivendell place. The faster we get there, the faster we'll see Frodo again. Come on!"

Aragorn looked grateful that Ivanna was standing up to comfort and cheer up the hobbits. That was not his forte at all. When the hobbits were ready, the group resumed walking again.

* * *

For several days, the remaining hobbits, a woman, and a man wove their way through the forest. Ivanna, much to her dismay ended up with bruises and cuts on her feet, despite her best attempts to stay way from sharp things.

On the bright side, she got to know the hobbits better. At first, Ivanna tried to get them feel better by trying to start random conversations. Although they were worried sick about Frodo, her attempts gradually distracted them from their woes and soon began to converse freely. Aragorn joined in time to time, although it was mostly the hobbits talking. They talked mostly about Shire. Mainly because the hobbits missed their homes so much. It sounded like a lovely place to Ivanna. Somewhere cozy and warm, with nice people and good food to eat.

And this night was their last night in the forest. Aragorn had said that the next day, they would reach Rivendell, and they would be safe for the time being. And for now, they were getting ready for bed, with the hobbits already half asleep, and Aragorn keeping watch. Ivanna sat by the fire they set up, trying to warm herself in the cool night.

She was in deep thoughts as she looked at the palm of her hands. Ever since her encounter with the Nazgûl, she hadn't conjured up any ice walls. She really couldn't tell how she was able to do it in the heat of the moment, and she tried moving her arms around with no luck. She sighed in frustration as nothing happened as she stared at her own hands.

"You'll find a way to control your powers," Aragorn suddenly said. He was watching her from across the fire, cleaning his sword. "I've heard from the stories that faës often need to learn how to use their powers correctly."

When he was done with cleaning his sword, he put it back into his scabbard, and walked towards Ivanna. He then sat down next to her, warming his hands to the fire.

"Do they… do _we_ all have same powers?" Ivanna asked, puling her knees to her chest with her arms and resting her chin on her knees.

"No," Aragorn answered. "I heard from an old friend who knew a faë and told me about her powers, and they were different."

Ivanna silently nodded in understanding. The two stayed silent like that, with both of them staring into the fire under the moonlight.

"I don't think I ever thanked you Ivanna," Aragorn said, breaking the silence. "Few days ago, I do not know why I didn't think of athelas plant before. It would have helped Frodo earlier on. Maybe I was too focused on getting to Rivendell."

"I really didn't do anything, really," Ivanna said. "And don't blame yourself. You have been doing so much for us. Keeping us safe, taking us to Rivendell, and whatnot."

"I should be more careful from now on," Aragorn sighed at her side. He looked at the hobbits who were now deeply asleep. "I cannot risk any more lives."

"You are doing more than enough already," Ivanna said. "I can say that with confidence and I've only known you for a few days."

"It has been a very eventful couple of days, I must say," Aragorn joked.

"No kidding," Ivanna said. "I woke up to find a stranger leading me to couple of screeching creatures and now I have to sleep in a forest."

Aragorn let out a small laugh. "You make me sound like a terrible man like that."

"In all honesty, though, you are a very patient, kind person," Ivanna said.

"The hobbits _are_ a bit handful," Aragorn chuckled.

Ivanna laughed quietly as well and felt herself yawn under the accumulated stress and fatigue.

"You should get some sleep," Aragorn said. "We will finally be in Rivendell tomorrow."

"I should," Ivanna said. And with that, she stood up from her place, to go towards the forest floor with a blanket that one of the hobbits had graciously lent her for the past few days. But before she left, Ivanna put her hand on Aragorn's shoulder. The man looked up surprised at an unexpected touch, and met her eyes.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," Ivanna smiled, repeating Aragorn's earlier words. "But thank you."

"For what?" Aragorn asked in curiosity.

"For finding me," Ivanna said. She saw Aragorn's face change in surprise at her unexpected answer.

But his face soon broke into a soft smile. "It was my utmost pleasure in getting to know you, my lady."

And with that, Ivanna turned around, and reached her spot next to the hobbits to fall asleep. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, not knowing that the man she left behind in front of the fire would be thinking about her for the rest of the night.

* * *

 _Thank you…_

 _For what?_

 _For finding me._

Aragorn sat in front of the fire he had made a while ago, with the same words repeating themselves in his head. When he had said that it was his pleasure getting to know Ivanna, he was not lying at all. In fact, he was eternally grateful for her presence. After Frodo's departure, the hobbits were so depressed and Aragorn was lost at what to do. On the other hand, Ivanna seemed to have made her way into their hearts, soon bringing back the cheeriness within the haflings.

And he had to admit, the young faë was more persevering and brave than he initially thought she would be. When he first met her, he had expected her to be a damsel in distress, and that he would have to watch her constantly. But he was wrong. This girl never once complained about running with a stranger, and managed to survive against the ringwraiths. And he had to commend her for running around in the forest in a dress, especially all the while being barefoot. He knew her feet were scarred at this point, having seen her feet bleed few nights ago. In short, this woman was quite resilient, and he admired her strength in a new place. It was clear that she wasn't from around anywhere here. Her way of speech, the way she carried herself, and the fact that she is a faë pointed out that she was a foreigner. Yet she was adapting quickly.

Aragorn could still feel the small, delicate hand that had rested on his shoulder, and the ranger didn't even notice that he had involuntarily reached for the spot on his shoulders with one of his hands. When he caught himself, he retracted his hand and stared at it.

 _How would her hand feel in his own?_

He actually knew the answer to this question, since he had helped her up when he first met her. Her hand was slender and small, and her skin was soft, a stark contrast to his own.

 _Would he ever hold it again?_

Aragorn shook his head. Why was he thinking about these things? He lifted his head to look away from his hand, but his eyes now landed on Ivanna's sleeping form. She was on her side, just like she had been when he first found her, with her dark locks slightly falling over her shoulder. Aragorn couldn't help but feel an outrageous and unexpected urge to reach out brush the hair out of her face.

 _Again, why was he thinking about these things?_

 _More importantly, why was he thinking about_ ** _her_** _?_

* * *

It was early in the morning that the hobbits, Ivanna, and Aragorn finally reached the gates of Rivendell. And to say that Ivanna's jaw reached the floor was not an exaggeration.

Rivendell was more beautiful than any other place Ivanna had seen or imagined. The high bridges and the wooden buildings were structured in elegant designs and styles, and the air within Rivendell had an aura of comfort, dignity, and safety. There were several elves roaming around too, and when the elves caught the sight of Ivanna, they spoke in their melodic language, and bowed their heads slightly.

"What are they saying, Aragorn?" Ivanna whispered to the ranger.

Aragorn smiled slightly. "They are showing gratitude for the Valar for sending a symbol of hope in times of darkness."

Uncomfortable at the unwanted attention, Ivanna ended up grabbing Strider's arm as she walked through the elven haven and hid behind his large form, not knowing what to do like a child. Ivanna looked up at Strider, who raised his eyebrow at the tiny woman that was holding on to him for dear life but did not comment on it. When they reached a platform in front of a long staircase, the group was met with a male elf in a long robe, with long, dark hair and eyes that were piercing and filled with wisdom and age. Ivanna immediately sensed that he was someone of importance, and high power.

Aragorn and the elf greeted each other in elvish, and the elf's eyes widened when he caught the sight of Ivanna.

"I am Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell" the elf introduced himself, slightly bowing his head. "I must say that I am truly honored to be in your presence."

"Call me Ivanna," Ivanna shyly said.

"Of course, my lady," the elf lord replied kindly. "And welcome to Rivendell, the Last Homely House."

* * *

After introductions were made, Lord Elrond had Ivanna and the hobbits taken away to be accommodated, observing their distressed appearances and in need of rest. Aragorn watched as the hobbits and the young woman happily follow an elf maid as they joyfully chatted away, having bonded so quickly during their way here. It was truly a wonder, how the young faë was able to fascinate the little haflings, although he had to admit the hobbits — especially the one called Pippin — were quite friendly and boisterous. As Aragorn watched the innocence and the delight of the young woman, he couldn't help but feel the corner of his lips curl up a little bit.

" _You have done well, Estel,_ " Lord Elrond spoke in Elvish, breaking his train of thought.

" _The hobbit with the ring was deeply injured,_ " Aragorn lamented. " _I doubt he will ever fully heal._ "

" _We are hoping for the best,_ " the elf lord replied.

" _Is Gandalf here yet?_ " Aragorn asked.

" _He arrived a few days ago. We are waiting for the halfling that was injured to wake up,_ " Lord Elrond replied. " _I have sent word to those across Middle Earth to hold a gathering._ "

" _For the One Ring, I presume,_ " Aragorn said. Lord Elrond nodded in response.

" _How did you meet the faë?_ " the elf lord inquired out of curiosity. " _Faës are only born when those dwelling in Middle Earth need their guidance, every couple hundred years or so._ "

" _I saw a fallen star and found her where the star had crashed onto the earth. And I couldn't leave her there in the wild. She's bound to attract evil that wants her power_."

"' _Tis true that if the news of a faë reaches Sauron and his forces, they will stop at nothing to have her,_ " Lord Elrond nodded in consent. " _I remember clearly what almost happened with the last one_."

Aragorn nodded, as he knew this story as well. He had met the said faë when he left Gollum in the care of the Woodland elves, and heard her story from his old friend, Legolas, the Prince of the Woodland Realm. Lord Elrond looked at Aragorn with a serious look on his face.

" _For another faë to be born so quickly after only few decades…_ " Lord Elrond worriedly said. " _It must mean that Middle Earth is about to face evil greater than before._ "

" _But it also could be something hopeful_ ," Aragorn mused, smiling softly. " _After all, they are the beacon of hope for the good, aren't they?_ "

* * *

When Gandalf escaped on the back of the damned eagle, Saruman couldn't be any more angry. If the news of Saruman the White aligning with Sauron spread, he would lose the advantage of having his facade. Saruman approached his Palantir and placed his hand around the surface of the globe and closed his eyes.

 _Saruman…_ Sauron spoke.

As Sauron continued to speak, Saruman's eyes snapped open and grew in size as he listened to his master. When Sauron was finished, Saruman lifted his hand from the Palantir and began to search his mind for a solution. Now there was a new wrinkle in his plan to assist Sauron regain his power over Middle Earth.

 _A faë…?_

The Valar must have sent one in hopes to go against the power of Sauron. This was going to be a nuisance. Saruman could almost envision the sickening sight of meekly men gaping and finding hope at the sight of the Valar's blessed one. Walking swiftly in his white robes, Saruman exited the chamber of the Palantir. He had to find a way to get rid of this annoyance. Whoever it was, Saruman now had a new target to kill.

* * *

 **HI! Thanks for reading this chapter!**

 **I know it's a long way till the Fellowship goes on its quest, but please hang in there.**

 **And thank you for those of you that's been commenting. They're very encouraging :)**


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